Lucky
by Enheduanna of Ur
Summary: "Harry had only seen his uncle cry once. Just once." When the family dog goes missing, the circumstances of her homecoming make the summer one that Harry and the Dursleys will never forget. A family tragicomedy in four chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, but I plan to get JKR very, very drunk and have her accidentally sign over the rights in my favor. Who's with me?**

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><p>Harry had only seen his uncle cry once. Just once.<p>

Well, ok, more than once. Vernon had blinked back tears of pride and happiness on several occasions, usually on Dudley's various graduation ceremonies or whatnot. On these days, Aunt Petunia would be bawling, and Dudley would be grinning like a maniac, and Harry would be doing his best (which wasn't very good) not to laugh.

But those days didn't count. There had only been one time that Harry had seen his uncle Vernon really cry, not from happiness, not from pride. That one time, when he'd sent Harry and Dudley both out of the kitchen, and cried at the table with his wife's small hands on his shoulders.

Years later, Harry still thought about it sometimes.

* * *

><p>It began the day that Dudley, as a reward for having successfully graduated from the third grade, received a puppy as a gift on 8 June, just after the end of school.<p>

Harry had also graduated the third grade (in fact, from the same class within the same school, and with better grades) but that was beyond the point.

The puppy was a beautiful golden labrador / German shepherd mix, and Dudley had been absolutely delighted with her. He'd promptly named her Cleopatra, but Harry thought it was an awful name and had secretly renamed her Butterscotch, Butter for short. Both of the boys loved her.

"C'mon Dudley, let me play with her!"

"NO! She's _my _puppy!"

"Dudleeeeey...!"

"DON'T TOUCH HER HARRY!"

"Hi, Butter! Come here, that's a good girl, you like your earsies scratched?"

"_Stop petting her, Harry - _MUM! Harry's petting Cleopatra!"

"Harry! It's Dudley's dog! Leave it alone!"

"Yeah, Harry! Leave her alone, Mum said!"

"_Fine...!" _Harry said with as much contempt as he could relish. He stomped outside and sat on the front steps of the house, listening to the sounds of Dudley and Butterscotch laughing and romping inside the living room.

"It's not _fair!" _

The exclamation burst from Harry before he could contain it, though it was heard only by him. At eight years old, the lonely boy could think of no better companion than a dog. Specifically a beautiful golden labrador / German shepherd mix named Butterscotch. And yet she was beyond his reach, held up tauntingly by the Dursleys but completely unattainable.

It wasn't fair.

Harry sighed, and rested his head dejectedly on his skinny knees. He knew he only had to wait for Dudley to grow tired of Butterscotch, and he could have her. He got all of Dudley's toys if he was patient and quiet about it. But this time it was not good enough to wait for Dudley to throw her away! Harry wanted that puppy _now_, wanted to be the one to teach her how to catch a ball, shake hands (or rather, paws), and snuggle with her in the nights. She'd be grown soon, and all that would be gone.

It wasn't fair.

Harry got _nothing_ he wanted. He never felt loved, he never felt like he was worth anything at all. He felt like the most unlucky child on the face of the earth. Dudley got a room, but Harry got a cupboard. Dudley got parents, but Harry got an aunt and an uncle. Dudley got a puppy, but Harry...

It wasn't fair.

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><p>On a warm June evening some weeks later, when the summer temperature had not yet reached an uncomfortable level, Dudley took Butterscotch out for a walk in the twilight. Petunia had reluctantly let him go alone, which Vernon said would help teach the boy bravery and responsibility. Harry had tried to tag along, but got stuck doing dishes instead.<p>

Harry's aunt and uncle took a break in front of the telly, watching the news (as Vernon had to do every single day.) Harry hated news. It was always so depressing and boring. Today, the news was a series of car break-ins in a nearby town, a missing girl about his age that was suspected of running away, and a heat advisory for some places south of Little Whinging.

"Car break-ins!" Vernon scoffed. "Serves the fools right for keeping their cars out in the street all day! Runaways! Serves the parents right for not keeping a better eye on their children!"

"Heat advisory!" muttered Harry sarcastically. "Serves them right for not moving to Antarctica in summer!"

"I heard that, boy," Vernon growled darkly. "I wouldn't say another word if I were you. You're already on thin ice for how often you bother Dudley about his dog."

Harry turned back to his dishes, a deep frown blooming on his face. His temper suddenly got the better of him, and said, "Wouldn't have to bother him if he'd named her something sensible. Cleopatra's a stupid name."

Immediately, Harry regretted saying anything at all.

Vernon stood up, and strode into the kitchen. "You ungrateful little worm! We take you in here, we give you food and shelter and clothes on your back, and this is your attitude? You behave like a snotty, spoiled child! Your aunt and I have done our best to raise you properly. Have we failed? Well, have we? Speak up, boy!"

"No," Harry said, head bent toward the sink, utterly defeated. "Sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"Sorry for... Talking back."

"That's better," Vernon murmured, settling back into his chair in front of the telly. Harry continued scrubbing plates, counting all the ways he was the unluckiest boy on the planet. The news ended, and Petunia changed the channel to one of her soap operas. Vernon picked up a magazine.

Suddenly, the door flew open. In bolted a hysterical Dudley (well, as fast as Dudley could bolt) blubbering about the park and the drugstore and the railroad tracks. Aunt Petunia rushed to his side.

"What happened, Dudders?" she asked worriedly.

"C-c-c-Cleopatra's g-gone!" Dudley sobbed. "I was w-w-walking her in the park when she c-c-caught me off guard and ran, and I c-c-couldn't catch her! I looked all over the p-p-park and at the drugstore and at the r-r-railroad tracks, but I couldn't find her! It's getting d-d-dark out, too!"

Dudley dissolved into tears, and Petunia helped him onto the sofa. Vernon got up to call the police station and tell them to keep a look out for the dog, but Harry (still elbow deep in suds) turned to him furiously.

"You _lost _her? You _lost _Butterscotch?" he shouted. "How could you! She's only a little puppy, how did she get away from you? And now it's dark and she's all alone somewhere! You idiot!"

"It isn't m-m-my fault!" Dudley howled. "I looked everywhere!"

"But you didn't find her, so it doesn't matter how hard you looked!"

Aunt Petunia stood up, suddenly towering over her nephew. "Harry, not another word. It isn't your dog. Finish the dishes."

"_No! _The dishes are finished, and I love the dog too!" Harry stamped his foot on the floor, tears leaking from his own eyes.

"I will not have this tantrum from you now!" Petunia shrieked. She grabbed Harry by his arm and yanked him to his cupboard. She opened the door, pushed him in, and closed it, sweeping the lock into position.

Harry hammered the door. "Let me out! Let me out! I have to go find her!"

They ignored him. Dissolving into tears, Harry gave up. He crossed his fingers that Butterscotch was ok, and slumped onto his mattress.

Once again, Harry felt like the most unlucky child in the world.

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><p>Weeks passed. Harry and Dudley worked together solemnly, silently, printing out tons and tons of flyers with Butterscotch's picture on it, stapling them to telephone poles and trees, waiting by the phone every night. Dudley even conceded to Harry's petition to put both Cleopatra and Butterscotch on the flyers, pride shunted aside by logic. Whichever name the dog answered to now, she would be found.<p>

On Monday nights, they went together to the police station to ask if they'd seen her. The police would say every time, exasperated but full of pity, that they would call the Dursleys when they did.

The Dursleys had offered to buy Dudley a new dog, but both Dudley and Harry had adamantly refused. Neither could bear the thought of Butterscotch coming home unexpectedly, only to find that she had been replaced. So they waited sadly, patiently, for their dog to come home.

They did not fight or bicker, even. Their loss had quieted their tempers, and they surrendered to one another in order to find the puppy. Vernon and Petunia would have found it peaceful if it had not been so sad.

Dudley turned nine. Dudley played with his presents, grew bored of them, and then Harry played with them. But neither forgot about Butterscotch, and together went, without fail, down to the police station every Monday night to be exasperatedly and pitifully turned down.

Loss of a mutual pet had brought the cousins together into an uneasy, but amicable peace. They began to treat one another more gently, and stopped making fights for the sake of fighting. Not to say they became best friends, because Dudley still pushed Harry down the last few steps from time to time. He just didn't do it as often as before, which was enough for Harry.

The adults accepted it in bemused silence.

* * *

><p>At noon on a blazing July day, the Dursley family and Harry were enjoying a lunchtime tuna casserole when they heard a knock at the front door.<p>

"Go get it, Harry." said Dudley.

Harry obliged, grateful to escape from the tuna casserole.

When he opened the door, he did not see the person there, though she was about his height and size, but rather saw the thing by her side, on a raggedy old leash.

"_Butterscotch!"_ Harry cried, falling to his knees and letting the dirty puppy pounce on him and lick his face. At the sound of the name, Dudley actually left his food at the table and ran to them, falling to his knees too. The three romped and hugged in total harmony before a sniffle interrupted them. Harry looked up.

Their puppy's savior was a girl, shorter and skinner than Harry himself (which was saying something.) Her clothes were sweaty and torn, filthy head to toe, and she was fidgeting. Her hair was mousy brown and tangled, and her big brown eyes were filled with tears.

She couldn't hold them any longer, and began to sob as she said, "I saw your posters, and I couldn't keep Ruby any longer. I'm sorry I kept her as long as I did. I just... I was lonely and I... I wanted..."

As Petunia and Vernon appeared in the doorway behind the boys, filling the frame, she shrank back in terror. Her eyes darted down the street, as though she was looking for a direction to run. She had a jumpy, animalistic kind of air, and it made Harry a little nervous. Petunia, who disliked dirty children, scowled at the girl.

Vernon, on the other hand, did not.

Perhaps he was touched by the child's honesty: she had loved the dog, but returned it anyway because she knew how much the dog was missed. Vernon respected honesty.

Perhaps he was impacted by her courage: she was fidgety and frightened, but had knocked upon the door of a total stranger to return their pet. That's quite a brave thing to do, especially for a child. Vernon respected courage.

Perhaps he was simply grateful to her for bringing home the dog.

Vernon leaned down to her level, and offered his hand to shake.

"Thank you for returning our pet." he said warmly, with a smile that touched his eyes as well as his mouth. His wife, son, and nephew were all a bit astounded.

"It's nothing," the child hiccuped, shaking his hand. "Can I... Can I come and see Ruby sometime? I love her very much."

Harry said nothing, but Dudley muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "My dog." Petunia simpered, shaking her head, because she never let dirty children into her house willy nilly. But Vernon surprised everyone, again.

"Of course you can, dear. Anytime!"

She grinned through her tears, and suddenly darted off the Dursley's front porch, waving wildly at them as she skipped down the street. Dudley, Harry, and Petunia all stared dumbstruck at Vernon, but he gave them a "look" that meant he was the "man" of the house, and he had "decided".

(And when the man of the house decides something, everybody else had better just go with it, gosh darn it.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. **

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><p>As it turned out, the girl's name was Ella. She began to come over every day at noon, and stayed for about forty-five minutes.<p>

Ella had renamed the dog Ruby, and now Ruby wouldn't answer to anything else. Neither Harry nor Dudley minded, because having Ruby actually respond to her name was much cooler than calling for Cleopatra or Butterscotch and being completely ignored.

At first, Ella visited shyly, and only for a few minutes. She would pet the dog, greet Harry and Dudley, and then leave. But conversation and laughter amongst the children eventually ebbed away at her social anxiety, and she began to stay longer and longer. She was the same age as Harry and Dudley, but went to a different school.

Ruby waited faithfully for her at the back door every day. Eventually, Harry and Dudley were waiting at the back door for their friend too, because they both liked her. She treated them equally, no matter what. It was a bit refreshing, for both of them.

The child grew on Vernon too. She was polite and respectful, which Vernon thought he deserved from all children and felt he didn't get enough of. He also noticed that she was smart, and predicted that she would go far in business.

"She's a bright one, that Ella. Wouldn't be surprised to see _her_ in the paper one of these days, isn't that right, boys?" said Vernon occasionally.

Harry and Dudley would hasten to agree. Their friend was smarter than them. She had a way of looking at the world that was so different from others, and had a way of explaining things that made perfect sense. But Harry and Dudley knew that Ella had no intention of going into business: she wanted to become a teacher, just like Ms. Steagall.

Ms. Steagall had been her second grade teacher, and Ella had _loved _her. She ranted and raved on how pretty and nice Ms. Steagall was, and how she'd made Ella look forward to school every day.

"She was always there for me when I needed her," Ella said, reminiscing. "But she had to move to Birmingham with her husband, 'cause she got married, so she's not Ms. Steagall anymore, she's Mrs. Whitmore. And my third grade teacher was no fun at all, she made school all boring and mean. When I'm a teacher, I'm going to be _just_ like Ms. Steagall, and I'm going to make learning fun!"

Neither boy could imagine school being fun, but if there was a way, they didn't doubt that Ella could find it. They assured her she'd be a wonderful teacher.

Petunia, unlike the rest of the family, didn't like her so much. Protective of her spotless counters and carpets, she made excuses for Ella not to come into the house: Ruby needed to play outside, the boys were playing in the sprinkler and Ella should join, the house had been sprayed for insects and nobody was allowed in, etc. Ella never doubted Petunia's excuses for a second (and never seemed to really realize how dirty she was, either.)

"Positively shameless! That a child is so filthy each and every day," Petunia complained. "Doesn't she ever bathe? I'll bet her mother's home is just as dirty."

But it was Vernon, in tune to this child for some reason, who noticed things about Ella that no one else did.

"Ella, dear. Isn't that the dress you wore yesterday?"

"Yeah, Mr. Dursley, it is. It's my favorite!"

"Ella, I told you that scrape on your knee needed a bandage. It's going to get infected if you don't wash it properly and wrap it up."

"Oops, I forgot. I'll do it tomorrow, Mr. Dursley."

"Ella. Are you hungry?"

The day he'd asked that question, Ella had been eyeing the sandwiches Harry and Dudley had been enjoying. The Dursley family and Ella were outside, enjoying lunch on a breezy summer day. Ella never ate while she was with them, so nobody had thought to offer her a sandwich too.

She gulped, and looked embarrassedly off to the side. Harry offered her his half-eaten sandwich, and she reached to take it. But Petunia intervened with a quick, "No, no, _germs_! Let me make a fresh one!" She strolled inside to the kitchen.

Vernon gazed at Ella. When Petunia came back with the sandwich, Vernon saw how fast she ate it. She positively beamed at Petunia and said that it had tasted wonderful, which made Petunia flush with pride and beam right back.

From then on, Petunia would always have a sandwich ready for Ella.

* * *

><p>"Ella?"<p>

"Yes, Mr. Dursley?"

"Where do you live?"

An awkward silence seemed to fall. "Wherever I want to." Ella responded, with less gusto than her normally cheerful self.

It was raining that day, and yet Ella had shown up at their back door anyway, dripping wet and hungry as ever for her sandwich. Petunia (though it was against her instincts) let the child in, dried her off, set her down at the table, and gave her a sandwich and a glass of apple juice.

It was August now, and the rain was a blessed relief from the terrible blazing heat. Ruby grew bigger every day, and was starting to gain a little sense in her foolish puppy head, though the day's storm was frightening her a little. Harry's birthday had come and gone with little celebration, and he hadn't felt the least bit lucky about it.

He'd shared this sentiment with Ella. She'd only stared at him, as though she couldn't comprehend his feelings at all. It had made Harry feel uncomfortable, so he'd dropped the subject.

"Live wherever you want to? Well, where do you sleep at night, then?" Vernon had said, hoping his hunch was not correct.

Ella frowned. "Well, yesterday I slept in the tunnel slide in the park, because it rained on me. But normally I sleep on top of the roof of the drugstore. Did you know you can get to the roof by the fire escape, and see all the stars from up there, Dudley?"

Vernon's hunch was indeed correct.

"That's so cool!" Dudley exclaimed. "Take me sometime?"

"Sure, anytime! I'll take you and Harry and Ruby there too! Though Ruby's too big to carry up the ladder now... We'll have to think of another way to help her up."

Petunia and Vernon were silent. Harry was on the same page as them, which Dudley was apparently not on. "Ella?" Harry said, with all the bluntness of a nine-year-old. "Are you homeless?"

Ella looked at the linoleum floor, an angry expression on her face. "What's it to you, Harry?" she muttered peevishly.

"Nothing, I don't care!" Harry quickly added, trying to make amends. "I think it's cool!" Ella's quick smile told Harry he was forgiven.

"Do you live alone, or with your family?" Petunia asked.

"Alone," Ella said with a giggle, "That's the point of running away!"

Another awkward silence fell, though it was unnoticed by Ella, who continued munching on her sandwich. In the distance, thunder rumbled.

"Are you the Shusterman girl, who the police have been looking for for the past two months?" Vernon asked quietly.

Ella put down the sandwich, eyeing them warily. There was an eerie stillness, and the look on the little girl's face was the only confession needed. Ella stood up slowly, never taking her eyes from Vernon and Petunia.

Suddenly, she dashed across the kitchen, threw open the back door, and escaped into the watery haze. Harry and Dudley hollered after her, but she ran down the street and disappeared into the pounding rain.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. **

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><p>A week or so later Ella was back, her desire for Petunia's sandwiches overriding her fear of being turned in. This time, Petunia took her inside, made her take a bath, and washed her filthy dress. All squeaky clean, Petunia brushed her hair free of snarls and knots, and tied it into a nice ponytail. She fed her the usual sandwich and apple juice, and let her watch telly with the boys.<p>

"So tell me, Ella, why'd you run away?" Vernon said casually, reading the paper while the children watched their program.

"Oh, I just felt like it."

"Don't they miss you at home?"

At that, Ella's usual smile faded. Her eyes took on a stony look, and she suddenly looked years older than she was. Dudley continued watching the program, unaware of the change in Ella. Harry, however, turned to stare at her.

"No, they don't."

Vernon shook his head, like adults do when they know they are right and the child is wrong. "They wouldn't have started a search for you if they didn't miss you."

Ella frowned. "I don't like them there. I used to live with my mum and my stepdad, but I don't like them. They don't like me either. My stepdad never liked me, and my mum always thinks I'm lying about him," Ella looked sideways at Harry, as though daring him not to believe her either. "I'm not lying! He's mean to me."

"We believe you." Harry said immediately.

"Good. 'Cause I'm not lying. I was real lonely right when I left. I wanted to go home, but I knew he'd be angry, and I was scared to. Then I found Ruby, and I took her with me to the roof of the drugstore. We kept each other warm. We loved each other very much. That's why I ignored your signs for a while," she said, eyes beginning to fill with tears again. "Ruby was my only friend, and I didn't wanna give her up. But you said I could come visit! And now Harry and Dudley are my friends too. So actually, I'm glad I gave her back."

"Where did you used to live? That is, where do your parents live?" said Vernon.

"My _mum and stepdad _live on the corner of Ninth and Walnut Grove," Ella said darkly. "But they're not my parents. Parents don't hurt children when they're bad."

"They are too your parents. All parents discipline their children, even Petunia and I. And I bet your parents miss you, Ella." Vernon stated in a matter-of-fact way.

Ella said nothing. She ran her hands over her arms, and turned back to the telly.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure about this, Vernon?"<p>

"Of course I am, Petunia. It's what needs to be done. Children shouldn't just run away from their poor parents: the Shustermans are probably worried sick about her."

Harry watched in secret from the hallway as Vernon and Petunia bent over a phone book, searching for the Shustermans at the corner of Ninth and Walnut Grove. Dudley was up in his room playing video games, and Harry'd been outside until hearing Ella's name, upon which he'd snuck into the hallway to eavesdrop.

"Alright, here's the number, see it?"

"Yes, thanks Petunia."

Harry heard dialing, then silence. Then Vernon began briskly, "Hello, my name is Vernon Dursley of Number Four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, and I'm calling on behalf of a little girl whose been at my house every day for the past month or so. Are you the parents of a runaway girl, about nine years old?"

There was no exclamation from the person on the other line, but there was a shuffling as the phone was apparently passed to a different person. A male voice continued, loud enough for Harry to hear, saying, "You've found her? She alright?"

"Yes, she's absolutely fine. We were wondering if we should have called the police, or gone straight to you? We really weren't sure."

"To us is fine. We'll tell the police for you. Where'd you say you lived?"

"Number Four Privet Drive, Little Whinging. She usually comes for a sandwich at around noon. If you could be here before then, that would be perfect."

"We'll do just that. My wife and I will be there around eleven thirty to pick Allie up, then we'll be on our way to the police station to cancel the search for her.

"Ella."

"What was that?"

"You meant Ella, right? You said Allie. Her name is Ella."

"Yeah, that's what I meant. Thank you for calling, Mr. Dursley, we'll see you tomorrow."

Vernon hung up the phone, his brow furrowed in doubt, before shaking his head. "A girl is best off with her parents, everybody knows that." he stated gruffly to Petunia before heading toward the hallway. Harry didn't have time to scurry away, and Vernon caught him red-handed in the stairwell.

"Eavesdropping again, boy?"

"Sorry Uncle Vernon, I didn't mean to, I was just heading into the kitchen for a snack." Harry lied off the top of his head.

Vernon wasn't buying it, but his mind was elsewhere. He shook his head. "No snacks for you, Harry, dinner's almost ready. You can wait."

"But Dudley has snacks in his room!" Harry protested, forgetting that he wasn't hungry and actually _had _been eavesdropping. "Why is he allowed and I'm not? What's so special about Dudley that isn't about me?"

"Just... No buts about it, boy."

Vernon left Harry standing in the hallway, once again feeling the keen unfairness of life.

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><p>When Ella came the next day, Ruby was waiting for her faithfully at the door, wagging her yellow tail and barking upon seeing her. The girl, now so comfortable in the Dursley's home that she didn't even knock, let herself in and began scarfing the sandwich waiting for her on the table.<p>

"Mr. and Mrs. Dursley?" she called to the empty room. "Harry? Dudley?"

"Hi Ella," chorused Harry and Dudley as they entered the room and sat down at the table with her. She grinned at them, and then suddenly an adult male voice echoed in the spotless kitchen as well.

"Hello Ella."

A man sauntered into the kitchen. He was small and skinny, but in a wiry kind of way, and had a brilliantly white smile. A woman with Ella's mousy brown hair lurked behind him, waiting for him to proceed as though she were afraid to make any move on her own. Behind them walked Vernon and Petunia. Vernon moved to sit at the table beside Ella, while Petunia moved to the back door.

Ella stared in shock at the man and woman in the doorway, her sandwich falling half-eaten onto the table. She looked nowhere but at them. Then, just as Vernon had predicted she would, Ella sprang up from the table and ran. She reached the back door and tried to throw it open.

Petunia, knowing better this time, had locked it.

Harry and Dudley, who had been anticipating a joyful reunion, could do nothing but gape in surprise.

Ella wrestled with the door a little before turning her back to it. Her eyes moved about the room furiously, looking for an exit and not finding one. She looked like a trapped animal.

"Come here, Ella!" the woman said with a synthetic smile.

Ella shook her head no, still looking at the man beside her mother.

Vernon patted her head, looking a little uncomfortable. "Go to them, Ella dear, they've been missing you so much!"

"Yes. We've missed you so much, Ella." the man said, his narrow eyes boring into the girl's wide ones. "Come here, baby."

Ella looked right at Vernon. Her eyes shone with betrayal as she began to cry.

Mr. Shusterman, seeing her refusal to move, strode over. He grabbed her by her upper arm and tugged her through the kitchen and toward the front door. Upon seeing it, Ruby began to bark furiously.

"No! No! NO!" Ella shrieked, kicking her arms and legs out against the Dursley's nice furniture. "_Don't touch me!_" The man pulled her harder, and though she clung to chairs and tables, she was no match for his strength. They reached the door, and Ella clung to the doorknob, yelling with all her might.

"Ella dear, please," her mother pleaded under her cries, her cheeks a bright pink. "Don't make a scene. Let's go home, love."

"Leave me alone! Leave me alone! LEAVE ME ALONE!" Ella sobbed. "Ruby! Ruby! Help me! Please! Ruby!"

Ruby barked excitedly, but did nothing. Ella's stepfather dragged her from the doorknob, down the front steps, across the concrete path, and to the car in the Dursley's driveway. He popped open the door and thrust Ella, still wailing, into the backseat. He shut the door and climbed into the driver's seat, while his wife climbed in the other side.

Harry and the Dursleys watched them drive away from Number Four, Privet Drive, toward the police station to tell them to cancel the search.

"Did you see that?" Vernon asked all of the sudden as their car disappeared around a corner.

"See what, Dad?" Dudley piped.

"Never mind."

But Harry had seen it. As the Shustermans drove away, Ella had raised her fists and banged at the glass in the rear window, cheeks mottled with tears, still shouting Ruby's name.

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><p><em>AN I'd really appreciate some reviews, guys. I get nervous writing chapter stories, and if you have any thoughts, tips, or concerns, I'd love to hear them. I know this story's being read, and tons of people are subscribing, but the only reviewers have been my editors. What do you think?_


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. AN/ This is part four of my four-chaptered story, so thanks for sticking around, especially my reviewers Cattyline, Woef, and SillyPeaches, and my beta Fortissimo X.**

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><p>"I don't know, Petunia. Did you see the way she fought them?"<p>

"She might have been just a little overwhelmed. We did spring them on her just a bit. Probably she's right at home again, don't you think?"

"Maybe. All the same, I've got a hunch that we should follow up on this. And when a man has a hunch, a good, old-fashioned hunch, why, he follows it! That's simply the way of things, Petunia."

"Whatever you say, dear."

Harry and Dudley were chowing down on roasted pork and mashed potatoes, sneaking tidbits to Ruby from time to time. Ruby had been a little dejected the past few weeks, what with Ella not coming around anymore, and the boys thought maybe some roasted pork would cheer her up.

Soon Harry and Dudley would enter the fourth grade, and Ruby would be at home with only Petunia until three. The boys didn't like the sound of that, so they made a point to try and spend as much time with her as possible until then.

Right after dinner, Vernon made a call to the local police station. "Yes... Yes, Ninth and Walnut Grove. I'm calling on behalf of Ella Shusterman? The little girl who ran away for most of the summer, and was returned a few weeks ago? She seemed a little frightened when her parents picked her up, and she was always a little reluctant to talk about them. No... I didn't ask. Yes, I understand. Thank you so much."

Harry stood at the sink, once again stuck doing dishes while Dudley went off to play in his room. Petunia, wiping down the table, said, "What did they say, Vernon?"

"They said they'd look into it," Vernon said brusquely. "And that there've been complaints of yelling and screaming there before." he added as a reluctant afterthought.

"Oh dear... Maybe it's just nothing. Plenty of people run households that permit yelling and fussing." Petunia murmured.

"Yes. Maybe so."

* * *

><p>In the last days of August, Harry and the Dursleys were having a late breakfast together, taking advantage of one of the last summer weekdays before school started for the boys. It was almost noon, but the family noshed on breakfast foods like sausage and omelets. The heat had finally begun to decrease, promising a beautiful autumn.<p>

Ruby lay by the back door, still waiting patiently for her friend.

Vernon had the paper propped up, hiding his face from the rest of the table. Harry was happy about that: if the paper had not been up, Vernon would have noticed Harry glaring at his son. Harry had made the sausages, but Dudley had eaten so many that Harry didn't get any. It wasn't fair.

"Hey!" Dudley suddenly cried out happily. "Look, Dad! Ella's in the paper!"

Vernon was reading page three. Dudley, unlike the rest of the family, didn't seem to realize the gravity of that. On the back of page three was always...

The obituaries.

"She's in the paper Dad, just like you always said she would be! That's her right there!" Dudley chirped, uncomprehending.

Harry sidled over to Dudley's end of the table to read the column.

_Ella Shusterman, age nine, was found dead in her home on 23 August... An anonymous tip concerning domestic violence... Curled in a laundry basket in a closet... Maxwell Shusterman currently on hold without bail for suspected murder in the first degree... Autopsy showed possible sexual abuse... Claire Shusterman claims to know nothing... Severe bruising about the head and torso... Baseball bat discovered with DNA... Trial scheduled... Terrible tragedy..._

Harry could only read snippets before the paper was yanked away and flipped over, but it was enough. Vernon's eyes were wide as they flickered left and right, reading the article in its entirety.

"What is is?" Dudley asked. Nobody answered.

"Dudley, you and Harry go upstairs," Petunia whispered. "Go ahead."

"I'm not done with breakfast, Mum."

"Go upstairs, you two, right this minute." Vernon said softly.

"But Dad...!"

"I said GO!" Vernon roared, slamming his fist onto the table. The dishes jumped with Harry and Dudley, as they hopped out of their seats and dashed up the stairs. Dudley didn't even stomp on the stairs, understanding that something awful had happened. Harry, however, took his usual eavesdropping position on the stairs and watched around the corner.

For the first and last time in Harry's life, he saw his uncle cry.

Vernon set down the paper and ran his hands through his hair, his face scrunched and red. He put his elbows on the table and rested his head in his hands, tears streaming down his face, dripping from his mustache, and leaving damp speckles on the newspaper. Behind him, Petunia began to cry too, tears leaving trails down her pale cheeks as she rested her hands on her husband's shoulders.

They did not speak. They simply stayed by their table, crying and crying as summer died outside their kitchen window.

Ruby whined on the floor, waiting for a little girl who would never let herself in through the back door again.

A little girl who would never become a teacher.

Harry sat on the steps and rested his chin in his hands, propping his elbows up on his knobby knees. His unruly hair covered his troubled expression. He looked much the same as he did on the day Ruby had gone missing, when he had sat on the front steps and counted the ways his life was unfair.

Today, however, Harry thought of the sausages. He thought about dishes nearly every night, and about the snack rule that applied to him but not his cousin. He thought about his birthday, and how it went uncelebrated every year. He thought about hand-me-down clothes, and hand-me-down toys, and hand-me-down puppies. He thought about the cupboard, with spiders adorning the ceiling. He thought about Vernon and Petunia, who loved Dudley, and his own parents Lily and James, who had once loved him. He thought about unfairness...

He also thought about Ella.

And suddenly, for the first time, Harry felt very, very lucky.


End file.
